


Place your bets

by Jepshe



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Biting, F/M, Flirting, Formalwear, Kinktober 2020, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-19
Updated: 2020-10-19
Packaged: 2021-03-09 03:40:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,614
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27098236
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jepshe/pseuds/Jepshe
Summary: "The only thing that would make an event like this bearable is some sex in the coat room."Gendry nearly spits out the champagne he just sipped, turning his head towards the source of those words on the other side of the table he's sitting at, unable to hide his surprise, and is met with the steady grey gaze of Arya Stark.
Relationships: Arya Stark/Gendry Waters
Comments: 21
Kudos: 137





	Place your bets

**Author's Note:**

> Happy kinktober! I thought there was no chance I would take part in this event but oh well... Me and my plans once again. But this was a fun little thing to write so I hope you enjoy!

Gendry can think of a very few settings he'd find less appealing than the one he's currently at. If it weren't for his idiot father practically bribing him, telling him he wanted all his children there, he definitely would have skipped this party. But Robert had made a big deal out of it and Mya had told Gendry that if the rest of them were going Gendry could just accept his fate and join them. 

So here he is, in a posh ballroom, wearing a fancy suit his sisters had taken out him to buy — making Robert pay for it — drinking what was surely very expensive champagne and being bored. 

Well, boredom is at least better than having to talk to Robert's snobbish friends. 

"The only thing that would make an event like this bearable is some sex in the coat room." 

Gendry nearly spits out the champagne he just sipped, turning his head towards the source of those words on the other side of the table he's sitting at, unable to hide his surprise, and is met with the steady grey gaze of Arya Stark. 

He knows Arya well enough to know it's not untypical for her to say what's on her mind without much of a filter but it still catches him off guard that she didn't even bother lowering her voice. Her tone is conversational, almost bored, but still it somehow manages to hold a hint of something that unsettles him, makes his heart beat just a little bit louder in his chest.

Arya Stark, looking perfectly proper and ladylike in her dark dress and her big earrings, assessing him from across the table. Arya Stark, who he thought was just scrolling through her phone, lingering by the table only because it's conveniently situated and seems to be a pretty good place to escape the crowd.

But even so, there are other tables close enough, even if they are mostly empty at the moment when everyone seems to be on the dance floor or by the bar, those small bites they called dinner already eaten a while ago.

"Don't worry", she says as if reading his mind, "We're not the interesting people here, no one's listening to us."

She raises her glass to her lips, all calm and collected. Confident, he thinks, as she lowers her glass, and there's a playful smile on those lips. And her voice doesn't waver one bit as she continues speaking. 

"We could get out of this room and we wouldn't even have to rush it and no one would notice anything."

Okay there's an image — and many more images he probably should not be thinking of, especially considering it's Arya that's featured in all those images running through his mind. It's making him feel things he really should not be feeling right there, with a formal party going on around him. 

He tries shaking the inappropriate thoughts away. 

"Pretty sure people do notice stuff like that," he says, chuckling awkwardly. 

"Wanna bet?"

The smile is more prominent now and one of her eyebrows is raised. She's looking amused, like she knows exactly how uncomfortable she's making him and it's enjoying it way too much.

"Bet?" 

"Yes, bet", she says, slowly, like he's being dense. "We'll see if anyone notices and if I'm right, I win and if you're right you win of course." 

Gendry's still not sure if she's being serious, but can't stop himself from asking. 

"And what does the winner get?" 

Arya seems to be contemplating for a moment, tilting her head a little bit, making it impossible for him not to let his eyes skim along her long neck to her shoulder. 

"Loser buys some actual food when we can get out of here? Or do you have something better in mind?"

He swallows. If she'd only know the things he has in mind. 

"Food's good," he tells her, shaking his head to keep those thoughts in some control, "Yeah." 

The way she smiles at him, eyes dancing all over him before they lock with his, tells him she most definitely has an idea of the other ideas that he just thought of. 

"Food. Wherever the winner decides," she adds, extending her hand for him to shake to settle the deal, and he takes it, his fingers curling around hers as she keeps their eyes locked. 

Arya stands up, stepping away from the table before turning back to look at him, her raised eyebrows clearly asking if he is coming or not and Gendry pulls himself together enough to stand, giving her a small nod as he does. 

She walks surprisingly quickly in her tall heels and long dress and he follows a couple of steps behind her, admiring the way her hips sway in that fitted dress, and how the skin of her bare back seems to almost glow against the dark fabric. She leads him out of the ballroom, through the entrance hall and into another hallway.

"I thought you were talking about the coat room," he points out. 

She waves her hand vaguely.

"Well that's not actually the best of places, you know, with the lack of solid surfaces and a door." 

"Oh, changing the terms, are we, backing out?" 

"So it was the coat room specifically that got you excited?" Arya asks, stopping and turning towards him. Her grey eyes staring straigth at him, her voice husky now and fuck if that voice doesn't go straight to his cock. 

"You won't want anything anywhere else?"

She smiles all sweet and yeah, she's got him there.

"That's not what I said." 

"So do you want to further discuss the terms or shall we just try to find a room with a door that has a lock in it?" 

Her lips are pursed and her arms are on her hips, and her whole posture is filled with challenge, but even if she might want to seem like she's annoyed, there's a hint of a smile on her lips and he can't stop himself from smiling back at her as he walks past her, grasping her wrist in his hand as he passes her.

"Let's find that room."

Gendry hears her quiet laughter and a pleased hum, both of those filling him with a different sort of giddy warmth. 

They try a couple of doors before one opens, revealing something that appears to be a dressing room of some sort, and Arya must deem that suitable enough because there's just a quiet "ha" and she pulls him inside without any more words, fingers working on the lock and trying the door once just to make sure it won't open. But before Gendry can really comprehend anything she's turned around again and has reached for him, pulled him down to her by his neck and is kissing him.

Gendry's brain might be a little bit slow to catch up with what's happening tonight but his body seems to have no problem whatsoever as his lips meet hers with no hesitation and his hands find her waist as if on reflex, pulling her body closer to him.

Arya's fingers work expertly on his belt buckle and start opening the buttons of his shirt and he can't stop himself from pushing his hips against her, pressing her body against the door.

It's too good, the way she feels under his lips, under his fingertips, against him, and he aches to feel more of her, so he follows her lead once again, gathering the thin fabric of her dress in his hands until he can move his hand to her tigh, sliding it up, up, until he can feel the edge of her panties and hear her breath catch.

Gendry pauses, removing his lips for a second to find her eyes.

"This okay?" he murmurs, and he's sure her eyes turn a shade darker as his finger touches her through the lace.

"Yeah."

Arya's voice is high now, and the calmness she has shown until this point is clearly evaporating.

His fingers slip inside her panties and as soon as they brush along the slickness she starts rubbing herself against his touch. Her hands stop their roaming, staying still on his chest as her forehead comes to rest on his collarbone. 

He can feel her breath on his skin, hot and labored, and the little moans she keeps making are probably the thing that's making the biggest strain on any self control he has left.

The fancy dress she wears is not helping the matters and he has trouble reminding himself that it is most certainly not a good idea to rip it off from her even if that's the thing he'd very much like to do just now. He lists this as one more reason he does not appreciate formalwear. 

"How does this thing come off?" Gendry mutters, reluctantly removing his hand from between her legs. Arya swallows, as if gathering her thoughts enough to function.

"Here."

Her hands go to her side, finding a zipper hidden in there. 

"You take that shirt off," she tells him, like she's chastising him, and her voice is surprisingly steady for someone who was a whimpering mess just seconds ago. 

This bossiness, he realises, it's incredibly sexy but it also makes him want to push back just as hard. 

He does as she told him to anyway, kicking off his shoes and pushing down his pants too, and he follows her to the couch.

"Sit," she tells him, punctuating her words with a hand on his chest, lightly pushing him down. He watches her, mesmerised, as she picks up and opens her purse, looking for something for a little moment before finding what she's looking for. She hands him the condom, keeping her eyes on him in that intense stare he's becoming very familiar with by now, as she takes off first her bra and then her panties, steps closer and climbs on top of him.

Arya kisses him, her hands working on the condom already, helping him put it on.

She moves on top of him, her fingers curling around his shaft, brushing it against her folds as she kisses his neck, humming in his ear, all of her teasing him to the point of oblivion. Gendry feels engrossed in the softness of it all: her skin, her touch, her low humming in his ear. Her teeth biting hard on the base of his neck jerk him back from the lulling softness and he hisses out his pain.

"I can't go to work with teeth marks on my neck," he tells her, angling his neck slightly away from her.

But of course she doesn't obey him, only snickers wickedly as she moves her mouth nearer to his ear and lets her teeth touch his skin again, only a little bit gentler now.

He leans back again. 

"I told you not to do that." 

She raises her jaw slightly and her eyes narrow, underlining the challenge in her words as she speaks.

"Make me stop then." 

He stares back at her for a second. It's a game where they're trying to see who will break first or who will push harder, and he's not letting her win that easily.

As fast as he can he grabs her, pushing her on her back and holding her wrists, pinning them to the couch on either side of her face. 

When he looks down at her, she's breathing deep, her chest rising and falling under him, her eyes wide and intense as she stares at him. 

"I'll make you," he tells her, pressing his mouth to her neck, licking his tongue up along the side of it until he reaches her ear and pulls her earlobe in his mouth. The whimper she lets out tells him she most certainly doesn't mind the change in balance. 

He holds her wrists with one hand and leans lower, moving slowly down, grazing his teeth across her skin, nibbling lightly here and there before he reaches her breast. He pulls her nipple in his mouth, running his tongue over it before he catches it between his teeth and bites down to it just a bit harder than he has touched any of her skin before. 

The sound she makes is nothing but sinful, her hips lifting up in an effort to find some friction, her head thrown back. 

"Please."

It's urgent, her voice nearly pained.

"What do you want?"

"Anything," Arya pants out, breathing hard, eyes closed, her hips moving under him the entire time like she's unable to hold still. "I'm… Just… Please."

She's on the edge, it's obvious and seeing her like this makes him lightheaded. 

He pushes in her and feels her walls clenching around him at once. She's panting, her hips rising to meet his, pushing against him, the muscles in her arms tensing and she's coming, fast and hard, going slack as she tries to catch her breath. Gendry needs to concentrate so he doesn't follow her right away.

"You okay?" he whispers after a few seconds, letting go of her wrists to brush a strand of hair from her face.

A soft hum and a small nod is all he gets, but she smiles and he starts moving again.

It's a blur, her moaning filling his ears, the wetness between them, her hips rolling to meet his under him, her eyes staying closed and her lips parted as she breathes through her mouth. He's got her hands pinned down again but it's with both his hands now, their fingers entwined and he revels in the way she holds his hands tight in hers. Perfect, that's what she is, the thought flashes through his mind just before he finishes.

  
  
  


In the ballroom everything seems to be the same as it was when they left. People might be a bit more into their cups and there are some guests already leaving the venue, but no one seems to pay them any attention when they settle near the entrance to the room, letting their gazes move around it.

"So, I do think you owe me some food," Arya tells him as she takes a flute of champagne from a passing waitress. Her voice has that calm, confident quality again, almost indifferent, and he thinks she looks way too collected for someone who was just moaning under him mere minutes ago. Her lips are the perfect shade of red again and if her hair is just slightly dishevelled, and her cheeks just the tiniest bit flushed, then he’s sure she can mask it with her nonchalant attitude if she needs to.

"We don't know yet," he insists. "And I think Bella just gave me a weird look." 

Gendry nods towards his sister across the room. Arya rolls her eyes. 

"So that's what you want to base your case on?" 

He shrugs. 

"Just saying."

"Fine," she says, like she couldn’t care less, "If that's how you want to play this, I can go and get myself some pizza. You text me later if I need to order something to your home too." 

She turns as if to leave, and Gendry rushes out his words before she can move any further.

"I don't think we can properly know the winner tonight, so I think we should just settle it for now."

"And what do you suggest?" Arya asks, looking amused, obviously catching up to his meaning already. 

"You decide the 'what' and I'll decide the 'where'." 

She bites the corner of her mouth, a smile tugging on her lips. 

"I already said I wanted pizza."

"Okay," he nods. "Pizza at my place it is."

  
  
  



End file.
